


After Hours

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Sleeping Together, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uhura pretends to sleep while her boyfriends have at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Во внеурочное время](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1526621) by [krasnoe_solnishko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krasnoe_solnishko/pseuds/krasnoe_solnishko)



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Sometimes they start up again once she’s asleep. Sometimes she pretends to be, just to prompt them. The first time, when she really was lost in a dream, Spock, apparently, wouldn’t do it. Then Kirk shook her awake and demanded she tell Spock it was fine, which she didn’t, purely out of spite. 

The second time, she was too tired for sex. A double shift and two novel-length Romulan transmissions to decode. She expressly told Spock it was fine, because Kirk’s irritating and pushy and needy, (and Spock’s needy too, he just won’t admit it) and sometimes Nyota just wants _rest_. And it was fun listening, anyway.

It’s fun watching, too. If Spock’s distracted enough, he won’t notice her breathing’s a little _too_ even, a little too intentional. Kirk would never notice. He’s kissing Spock’s neck on the other side, (they often make Spock sleep in the middle) and Kirk whispers, “C’mon, just roll over...”

“ _Jim_ ,” Spock insists, in that low, erotic voice of his, in that intimate way he always says _Jim._ It’s part of what made her first agree to this. Even if Nyota knows Spock loves her, which she does, she _knows_ that Spock loves his captain, too. “We should not...”

“Why?” Kirk purrs. The blankets shift beneath them; Nyota’s eyes flicker down, searching through the darkness. The only light is a pale glow of the stars through the thin blinds, thin on purpose. They sleep in Kirk’s quarters because he has the biggest bed. There’s a quick intake of breath—Spock’s, she thinks—and Kirk continues, “She wouldn’t mind.”

Spock turns away from her, towards Kirk. His eyes are probably open now. His voice is a whisper, and she has to strain to hear it. “It would be disrespectful. She is right next to us.”

“We could wake her up,” Kirk insists, because if there’s anyone who has difficulty giving up, it’s Jim Kirk. “But I think you know she’d kill us if we did.”

“We will wake her up if we start anything.”

“We’ll be quiet.” She hears a kiss, and Kirk’s voice gets hoarser, deeper, sexier: “You know you want me, Spock...”

“ _Captain_ ,” Spock whispers, almost in a gasp. Nyota opens her eyes just a fraction more, to see Kirk climbing onto him, still under the blankets, naked, like they always are. Spock’s eyes are closed. He probably wanted to sleep, but now he’s just trying not to see temptation. The bed starts to subtly rock back and forth at a slow, steady pace, and Nyota knows that Kirk’s humping him. Their captain’s such an animal sometimes. 

But Spock likes that, and they both know it. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, while Kirk kisses all over his jaw, nipping and sucking, make wet, raunchy sounds. He glances over at Nyota once, but she’s a master at pretending. (Not all of her past boyfriends were as courteous as Spock.) He focuses back on Spock. Spock’s hands climb slowly out of the covers, landing on Kirk’s shoulders. They don’t push away, though. 

“Captain,” Spock continues, practically in a moan. “This is... most inappropriate.”

Kirk finally stops kissing Spock, sighs, and drops his head, pressing their foreheads together. From what she can tell in the lack of light, his eyes are closed too. “I don’t think you get how this works, Spock. We have a threeway relationship. That means you and Nyota can make love or whatever without me, and I can fuck her, and you and I can do whatever we like. We’re all senior officers on a deep space starship; it’s unreasonable to think we’ll be all together all the time.”

“I understand that,” Spock says, more calmly, as though he’s negotiating a chess game, rather than conversing with a lover. “However, I believe the situation is different when she is lying right next to us. She has had a very trying day, and if we wake her it would be very rude.”

“So I’ll gag you.”

“That would leave a myriad of other noises—”

“Mr. Spock, as your captain, I order you to shut up and let me make love to you. If Lt. Uhura puts up a fuss, I’ll tell her you were only doing your duty as my first officer.” There’s a short pause, and then, “And I order you to like it.”

It takes a great deal of effort for Nyota not to laugh. She sneaks another peak; Spock’s scowling. “I do not believe you can order such a thing.” If he finds amusement in the teasing, he doesn’t show it. But as soon as he says it, he’s arching up a little and biting his lip to stifle a moan.

“Oh yeah?” Kirk chuckles. Nyota can’t see what he’s doing, but she can venture a guess, based on Spock’s reaction. She knows the expression on Spock’s face; she’s pulled it out of him many times herself. But she can’t deny that Kirk has a certain power over Spock too, that there’s a look Spock reserves for just his captain. He moans when Kirk strokes him, and he gasps when Kirk nips at him, and he kisses back when Kirk presses their lips together. Soon his fingers are threading through Kirk’s hair, and one of Kirk’s hands is raking through Spock’s blunt bangs and thumbing the shell of his ear. 

Nyota’s half tempted to really attempt sleep. They can make out for hours, she knows. But they’re also so _hot_ while they do it, and even though she’s exhausted, it’s still fun to watch. Especially when they use too much tongue, and she can see the battle between them, and their noses bump and Kirk switches their angles—Kirk leads every fight. She glances down quickly—the sheets are rustling again, rising up—Kirk must be pulling Spock’s legs up to either side of himself, maybe wrapping around him. Spock stops kissing to whisper, “Not like this. You’ll make the bed hit the wall.”

“So?” Kirk goes back to kissing the side of Spock’s neck, sucking and making him turn aside, eyes closed and cheeks flushed a little green. Voice low, Kirk hisses, “Don’t pretend you don’t like it when I pound you into the mattress hard enough to make the walls shake, baby...”

Spock holds firm and says, as evenly as he can manage, “You will wake Nyota up. Get behind me.”

Again, Nyota has to resist the urge to smile. Times like these are why she’s okay with sharing his love. She still has it, she knows. He still thinks of her. He just thinks of their sexy, charismatic captain too, like they all do. And if they have a special bond beyond that, well... Nyota has a special bond with him too. And Kirk loves all his crew, especially his senior staff, especially those like Nyota that probably could’ve been models if Starfleet didn’t work out. 

But models are more for still shots. Here, she gets to witness an entire play, with sounds and scents and all. She can smell the musk in the air, the evidence of sex about to happen, and she can hear how Spock’s breathing is just a little bit more erratic than usual. Kirk rolls off Spock with a grumble, back behind him. Then Kirk nudges Spock onto his side, so that he’s facing Nyota, and she stubbornly remains on her back, half asleep and half spying.

She’s very, very careful about opening her eyes a few millimeters. She can only see blurs. But Spock, thankfully, has his eyes closed, and he’s probably too distracted to notice anyway. He looks like he’s already about to explode, but Kirk does that to him. It takes quite a bit of willpower not to roll over and throw her arms around him, rub her breasts against his strong chest and press her lips to his. But if she does that, she’ll miss the show, and she’ll _never_ get to sleep. 

So instead she just listens while Spock gasps and Kirk grunts, and somehow she just knows that Kirk’s slipped inside. If she wanted to, she could have Spock on the other end. That happens often. Then Nyota and Kirk get to laugh together about overloading their poor Vulcan, bringing him down to an avalanche of pleasure and _emotion_ so entirely illogical. Sometimes, Kirk does make pillow talk more fun.

Other times he’s just a dog, and tonight is one of those times. Spock doesn’t seem to mind. He never does. He puts up a front. But he _loves_ Kirk, and they all know it, and as Kirk slams into him, Spock moans, “Jim,” quietly and over and over. 

The bed still slides. Kirk tries to go slow, she can tell that, but he’s never slow enough, and he fucks too hard. He grinds Spock forward and back, and when she opens her eyes again, Kirk’s arms are wrapped tightly around Spock’s body, one hand playing with his nipples and the other beneath the blankets, probably stroking his cock. Spock’s reaching back for Kirk’s hips. Kirk hisses in his ear, “You’re so tight, baby, feel so good...” 

Spock buries his face in the pillow, probably to keep himself from saying anything he’ll regret later. That only gives Kirk more access to his neck, and the thrusts get more harried. Wet slapping sounds are filling the air, coupled with moans and the occasional grunt when Kirk uses too many teeth. Then Kirk growls in Spocks ear, “ _I love you..._ ” 

And Spock comes undone. He arches handsomely and throws his head back, groaning his release, while Kirk tries to bite back his howl of pleasure. She thinks he isn’t far behind.

A moment later, they collapse into the bed, still wrapped around each other. 

They take a few minutes to catch their breath, panting hard and sweating; Spock’s bangs are slicked to his forehead. 

Then, because everything has to be something with them, Kirk mumbles, “You didn’t say it back.”

Spock’s spent, eyes closed and lips parted. He shakes his head and says, “I love you.”

Kirk laughs, probably because of the odd way in which Spock always says it; like he’s trying to please both the person he’s saying it to and his Vulcan heritage: the words without the emotion, when they always know just what he’s feeling. And he is _feeling_.

Kirk pulls Spock onto his back again. Kirk climbs half over his body to kiss him on the lips. 

Then Kirk promptly gets back to his hands and knees and climbs over both of them, settling behind Nyota. Because she knows she’ll never get away with this charade if Spock really pays attention to her, she pretends to wake up because of Kirk, and she scowls sleepily over her shoulder at him. 

Kirk grins innocently and spoons her from behind, naked and sticky. Spock whispers, “I am sorry, Nyota,” and he rolls up to hold her from the front, kissing her forehead. 

She yawns, “S’alright, I’m just drifting in and out.” She pulls Spock a little closer, so both sides are equally warm.

Then she closes her eyes, happily drifting off in the arms of her two favourite men.


End file.
